


a catalogue of non-definitive acts

by SomeoneElsesDream



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: ALL THE SEX ACTS GOING ON, Anal Sex, Cock Warming, Cunnilingus, F/M, I don't know that we have time for me to list all the depraved sex acts within this story, IT'S BASICALLY ALL PORN OKAY, Incest, Light Dom/sub, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Vaginal Sex, but hey raised as twins counts as incest, but only sort of incest because I don't know how these particular aliens will work, sort of? I mean it is but it's never really SAID it's all IMPLIED and shit, there is no real plot here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-18 22:09:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20646455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomeoneElsesDream/pseuds/SomeoneElsesDream
Summary: The things that happen in Roswell after dark might shock you. Or they really might not.I don't know how to summarize 3400 words of unrepentant filthy porn. It's all porn all the time here y'all. Small town aliens having a truly alarming amount of hot hard sex all over the damn town. Woops I tripped and added more sex.





	a catalogue of non-definitive acts

**Author's Note:**

> For my Darling Lisa who, when told I was writing unabashed porn of the truly filthy variety, was very supportive. Sometimes you need someone to help you choose between pussy and cunt in your porn and she was very helpful in that regard. She also gave this a beta and helped me make it almost 1k longer, somehow pornier, and much better flowing. Love you babe!
> 
> None of this is healthy. It’s not particularly safe or sane and consent is something flirted with off screen. No one is injured. Take care of yourselves and consider if this will be upsetting. End notes have further warnings just in case.
> 
> Title from “Litany in Which Certain Things Are Crossed Out” by Richard Siken which inspired this probably more than I’m fully comfortable admitting.  
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/48158/litany-in-which-certain-things-are-crossed-out

It’s five-thirty on the button when Max knocks on her door. With her always perfect timing, dinner has just come out of the oven and is resting on the stove. Her wrap dress is unwrinkled, her lipstick is perfect, and her hair is down the way he likes.

When Isabel answers the door it’s to get a face full of flowers, the bouquet bright and fragrant in her brother’s hands.

“Always so thoughtful.” She says, taking the flowers and stepping aside so he can come in. “I’ll put these in water.”

By the time she’s got the vase arranged just so, Max is sitting down at the head of the table with a smile.

“Something smells good.”

“Roast chicken and potatoes.” Isabel shrugs, setting the vase in the centre of the table. “Nothing fancy.”

“Looking forward to it.”

Dinner goes down easy with a bottle of wine and good conversation. The twins don’t spend as much time together these days with living on opposite sides of town and Max being so busy at the station since Jenna left.

“Dessert?” She offers, when the plates have all been cleared and the wine is long gone.

It’s like a switch gets flipped, the room going small and hot in an instant.

“I think I can make room for something delicious.” Max smiles, dark and predatory, pushing his chair back from the table and slouching low in the seat. He gestures her closer with a single curved finger and Isabel has to squeeze her thighs together before she can stand to walk over.

Standing in front of him, close enough her skirt brushes against his denim clad knees, Isabel waits for instruction.

“Dress.”

She undoes the tie holding the dress closed and lets the fabric slip off her shoulders to pool around her bare feet. 

“Lovely.” Max smiles up at her, “Take the lacy nonsense off.”

Bra and panties, in matching coral lace, land on top of the dress. Isabel never bothers wearing nice underwear to impress her brother, he couldn’t care less, but she likes knowing everything that touches her skin is beautiful.

One big hand, faintly dry and distinctly gun-calloused, comes up to cover her breast, long fingers tweaking her nipple just this side of too hard. His other hand reaches for her hip, tugging her into the space between his thighs.

His mouth closes over one pink nipple and Isabel can’t help reaching up to dig her hands into his dark hair and hold him close. He sucks hard, like always, pulling and tugging on her nipple until it hurts so much that she can’t help pulling his hair in a vain attempt to get him off. 

It only works in that he moves to abuse her other breast, his hand coming up to cover the wet, red throb he’s made of the first. 

The pulse between her thighs echoes the tug and pull of Max’s mouth on her breast, and Isabel knows she’s exactly where her brother wants her. He doesn’t let up until she’s a writhing live wire in his arms, until she’s begging him to stop, always needing to give her just a little more than she wants to take.

Giving his sister a moment to compose herself, Max leans back and undoes his belt and unzips his jeans. His cock is straining hard against cotton and denim, but he’s casual as he pulls himself free.

“On your knees.” He says, patting his thigh until Isabel rests her face against the rough denim weave. “Open your mouth.”

It’s a strange position for a blowjob, leaving her no leverage to really move her head or deep throat his cock the way she knows he loves.

“Just hold it in your mouth for me sweetheart,” Max tells her, feeding his cock between her lips. “No sucking now, just take it in as far as you can and breathe through your nose.”

In theory this should have been easier than a blowjob, less gag reflex issues at least, but in less than two minutes Isabel realized this was so so so much worse. It was almost impossible to take a deep breath and she couldn’t swallow without sucking his cock - something he had forbidden her from doing - so drool was dripping down her chin to wet his thigh. 

She’s twitching in uncontrollable little bursts and her thighs are trembling by the time Max decides she’s done and pulls himself free of her mouth. He’s kind enough to keep his hand gentle on the side of her face while she gasps and flails her way into some kind of equilibrium. 

Isabel is barely steady when Max tugs her to her feet and bends her over the cool mahogany dining table and kicks her ankles apart. Her nipples throb when he uses one hand to press her firmly down while his other hand guides his cock into her wet heat. 

She has a moment, two, to adjust to the delicious stretch of his cock before Max puts his back into it and hammers her poor cunt. It’s like being fucked by a jackhammer; the relentless pounding of his hips against her ass, her hips into the table and Isabel fucking loves it.

Her orgasm takes her by surprise, building and snapping so fast it punches out of her in a long wail. Max shifts his grip on her hips, a low laugh barely audible over the now squelching sound of his cock in her cunt. 

She comes again and it pulls him over the edge with her, his body dropping down the line of her back as he groans in her ear.

He’s pulled out and tucked himself away before Isabel can catch her breath, but his hand is fond as he strokes it over the pale curve of her ass.

“Dessert was delicious as advertised.”

“Damn right it was.” She manages, pushing herself into a more upright position. 

“I’m thinking I owe you breakfast after this.” He says, already heading for his boots at the door. “Tomorrow?”

“I’m going out tonight.” She says, picking up her now crumpled dress from the floor and tying it back on. Her pretty underwear stays where it fell.

“Breakfast.” He says again, firmly this time. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow.” She echoes, opening the door so he can slip into the night.

She has her coat and shoes on before his tail lights have faded down the block.

~~~~~

Michael feels her even before the headlights cut swaths of too bright through the windows of his Airstream. By the time she hits the steps, he’s unlocked the door for her with his powers.

Her heels clatter when she kicks them off half under the kitchen table. The swish of her coat sounds too expensive for the way he knows she's tossed it over the chair.

Padding the few measly feet to the bed in bare feet, Isabel grabs the edge of the blanket where it's pooled around Michael's hips and tosses it into the corner. She's wearing one of her fancy wrap dresses and a dangerous smile so Michael isn't surprised when he runs his hand up her thigh and finds only a wet mess.

"Someone's been busy" he says, pushing three fingers straight in and curling them the way he knows she likes. 

The Gaelic shrug he gets in reply and the way her hips jerk toward and away speak volumes for where his sister has been.

With the smallest tug Isabel climbs into bed. Her dress winds itself off and aside with barely a thought from Michael and in the uncertain light coming through the window he can see the wreck of her evening writ large.

The ride from her end of town to his takes 40 minutes, but her nipples are still swollen, tender when he gets his free hand up for a squeeze. The beginning of some lovely bruising is inking it's way around the angle of her hips, down the pale softness of her inner thighs.

Pulling his fingers free of her cunt and licking them clean, Michael makes sure he's caught and kept her eye. She knows what he wants and knows better than to make him ask for it.

Bracing her hands on the ledge above his head Isabel swings herself around so she's hovering over Michael's face. He likes to breathe her in before he uses his mouth.

"Michael" her voice cracks when he pulls her down onto his mouth, but he knows that hoarse rattle isn't his doing.

He dives in, teeth pressing against the swollen mound of her clit, tongue pressing deep inside, the mingled taste of Isabel and Max bursting across his tongue like something dark and bittersweet. Forbidden.

Isabel wails, her thighs trembling, she's so tender it _hurts_. Michael's fingers press exactly where she's already bruising and he's unforgiving, holding her until he's sure every drop of flavour is wrung out of her cunt. 

Michael let's her fall back, awkward and heavy across his torso, and wipes the mess off his chin. "You're not done already are you sweetheart?"

"Hnagh" Isabel manages, rolling herself mostly off him. "Christ you'll be the death of me."

"Nah," he smirks, "not till I'm done with you."

They manage to get turned around properly and Michael takes the opportunity to kiss Isabel deeply, with enough tongue it’s almost farcical. The little sound she always makes, hating the taste of herself on his mouth, is worth the undignified way he gets it.

“Shall I fuck your pretty face?” He asks softly, close enough to see the hesitation in her eyes. “What? Tell me.”

“I have a fundraiser tomorrow, a ladies lunch thing.” She says, “I’d rather not make it worse.”

Michael frowns, thinking. Isabel hates when Max fucks her face, hates how much bigger he is than her. She lets Michael do it, not because he’s gentler - he’s not - but because he’s not quite so overwhelming.

“What did you…?”

“Cock warming? You might have heard of it.”

The idea hits him like a lightning bolt, like a brick to the back of the head. God doesn’t that just sound marvelous?

“Well then I guess it’s sloppy seconds on that pretty cunt of yours.” He shrugs, tucking that idea away for later. For a night when he goes first and gets her the longest.

Isabel whimpers, already so sore and wrung out, but she knew what would happen when she walked in the door. The unmade bed is hers to be fucked in.

Michael gets out of bed and grabs her by the ankles, turning and tugging until she’s sideways with the edge of her ass barely on the lumpy mattress. He pushes her legs up and back, knees down into her chest and feet in the air.

“Hold these for me would you?” He smirks, waiting until her hands have wrapped around her own ankles before he lets go. “Good girl.”

Isabel shivers, feeling the cool desert air drifting in from somewhere to brush softly against her exposed cunt. She’s throbbing, feels half raw and completely done in already, but she never says no to her brother - brothers - and she never will.

Michael likes her best this way, exposed and uncertain with nothing to hide her beautifully expressive face behind. Max may favour doggy-style, but he prefers to see what he’s doing to their sister.

The first hard push of his cock draws the most amazing wail, the second pushes out like a sob. It’s a battle on nights like these, her limitations and his desires, but she yields to him in the end like always. It doesn’t take long for the tears, the begging. Isabel knows it won’t do any good, it never does, but she can’t control herself when it’s like this.

When the words stop, when the crying and wailing quiets into little animal noises she can’t choke down, Michael lets go of his control until it feels like the whole Airstream is rocking with every thrust. When he comes it’s like a storm cloud bursts, the barometric pressure shifting so fast it’s dizzying.

Before he pulls out, his cock going soft and sticky, he uses his powers to open the toy box on the table and pull his favourite red plug across the room. Standing up pulls his cock free, a trail of sticky come runs down into the crack of Isabel’s ass but Michael is quick to jam the plug into her cunt before anything else can escape. It makes her twitch violently, one last confused cry before she dutifully closes her thighs as much as she can and moves to the far side of the bed.

The plug is uncomfortable, her cunt keeps clenching down on it involuntarily and it hurts more than it feels good but it’s only comes out when he’s in a mood, so she never argues.

Michael gives himself a cursory wipe with the nearest clean-ish cloth and climbs back into bed, spooning up behind Isabel and tucking his hand down between her legs so the base of the plug sits in his hand.

“Sweet dreams big sister.” He says, as always.

“Sweet dreams baby brother.” She replies, as always.

They don’t do this to _forget._

They don’t do _this_ to forget.

~~~~~

Isabel slips out of the Airstream in the early dawn, the door locking itself behind her. It’s always awkward to walk with a damn plug jammed up inside her, too unyielding to be anything but silicone so her body never gets used to it.

She pulls into Max’s driveway just as the sun is fully risen and a sane person might call it morning. Spare key in hand she lets herself in, dropping coat and keys and purse right there in the foyer, heels skitting off to wherever shoes like to hide.

By the time she hits his bedroom door she’s lost the dress so she slides into bed behind him naked but for the bright red plug between her thighs. Max rolls over right away, he feels her coming almost from the time she leaves Michael at the junkyard, but he lets her get into bed before he acknowledges the handover.

“Someone had a good night,” He chuckles, forcing his leg between hers and pressing his thigh high and tight against the plug. He pushes until she flinches and doesn’t pull back until the first whimper escapes her clenched teeth. “Let me see you.” 

Isabel rolls onto her back and spreads her thighs as wide as she can with him still hovering next to her. It’s obscene really, and the full length mirror positioned just so off the end of the bed gives her a clear view right up the line of her body.

Max pulls the plug out quickly, he always does, and when her mouth opens in a soundless scream he presses as much of it as he can against her tongue. It’s the things he knows she hates that he enjoys the most, but only the little things.

Isabel licks as much of the plug as she can, looking up into her brother’s eyes as he turns the silicone in his hand. There’s something wild in his eyes, not every morning - or every night for that matter - but it’s there now and it scares her a little.

When he’s decided she’s cleaned the toy enough, Max turns to set it on his bedside table. It’ll end up back at Michael’s and they’ll never talk about it. There are a great many things they never talk about.

“One to ten.” He says when he’s rolled back and settled in beside her, his face on the soft slope of her belly.

“Five.” She says on a gasp when he pushes three fingers into her mostly dry cunt. It stings and burns but her body is so used to it that she can feel herself softening already.

“Five!” She says again, louder and sharper when he grinds the palm of his hand over the bruised ridge above her clit, still sore from Michael’s teeth.

Max chuckles darkly, pressing his mouth to the top of her hip and sucking hard.

Four fingers is a five again and Isabel wills her body to relax for what comes next. He never eases into it, never gives her a chance to move away, Max just shoves his fist inside her like he’s trying to punch his way out the other side.

“Ten!” She screams, jerking hard enough that Max has to shift quickly to hold her down. He keeps his arm still while she calms down, but he doesn’t pull out.

“Good girl, Izzy.” He praises, his free hand forcing her knees back apart. “Look how good your cunt is.”

She stares down her body into the mirror because she knows he’ll only get angry if she doesn’t. It’s better and worse somehow, to see the flare of his wrist pressed against her clit. If she was a good girl this would horrify her, would drive her from his bed and his house and his life without a backward glance.

Isabel is not a good girl, not really. 

The gentle flexing of his hand, his wrist, brings her back fully into herself. She’s much closer to orgasm than she was a second ago and it barely takes the work of a few tugs against her rim before she’s gushing down his arm.

“There’s my good girl.” Max croons, sliding his hand free and laughing when her cunt clenches down on nothing and she whimpers at the loss. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

He manhandles her until she’s face down in the middle of the bed with her ass in the air, knees spread as wide as possible without falling over. Max hooks two fingers from each hand in her gaping cunt and stretches as wide as he can.

“Please!” Isabel cries, half muffled in the blankets.

“What good is a loose cunt, hmmm?” Max ponders, working his fingers so they come out slick with her come. “Not much use, I think.” 

Even though she knows it’s coming, Isabel can’t help clenching down hard when two fingers push firm and slick into her ass. It’s still new, still strange to have something in her ass. It still hurts more than it feels good.

“I’m tired,” Max says, apropos of nothing, “I don’t have time for your delicate sensibilities this morning Isabel, so you’re going to have to hold still.”

It’s surprising to feel his cock in her cunt, unexpected and over so quick she can’t even pretend to enjoy it. The insistent push of said cock against the tight rosebud of her ass half a moment later is less surprising.

Max loves his sister’s ass. He wasn’t lucky enough to be the first to try her pretty cunt, but damned if he was going to let anyone else take this from him. It’s a different kind of tight, a different kind of heat squeezing his cock from any cunt he’s ever tried and he fucking loves it.

Isabel hates anal sex almost as much as she hates the PTA moms who chair her committees and insist on talking about their little terror offspring at every turn. The burning stretch and unnatural fullness in her ass never get comfortable, let alone pleasant. The only benefit is that Max never manages to last very long so it’s over fairly quickly.

Fifteen, maybe twenty hard thrusts and Max can feel his balls tighten, he shifts his grip on her hips and slams as hard as he can against her tailbone, coming so hard his vision greys out for a moment.

The sloppy sound of his cock pulling free and the wet run down across her cunt spurs Isabel into motion. Awkward and flailing like a newborn colt she manages to get to the bathroom before making a mess of herself and the bed, collapsing on the toilet in time for everything to come rushing out as quick as it went in.

This is the part she hates the most. It’s undignified and filthy in a way that has nothing to do with pleasure.

She showers when she’s done, knowing nothing will move Max from his post-coital nap for at least an hour. A small but expertly curated selection of her wardrobe lives in Max’s closet for mornings like this and if she hurries there should be just enough time to make herself presentable before brunch.

Isabel turns the coffee maker on before she slips out, her brother having finally hauled himself into a much needed shower, and leaves a note balanced against the carafe.

_Sorry to run, ladies brunch this morning. See you at mom and dads for dinner tonight._  
XOXO  
Is 

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings and potential triggers:
> 
> Michael and Max have sex with Isabel without asking or informing her of what they will do to her body. She does go to them willingly knowing this will happen. It is heavily implied that all of this was agreed upon beforehand in the nebulous off screen.
> 
> Things are done to Isabel that she does not enjoy and that lack of enjoyment is part of her partner’s enjoyment. She goes willingly into bed(s) knowing this is possible - even likely. She is not damaged in any way.
> 
> While there is no active violence there is talk of bruises being left on Isabel deliberately and those bruises being pressed and squeezed to cause a pained reaction. 
> 
> Proper precautions are not taken in regards to lubricant or indeed ensuring bodies are fully and safely prepared for the sex that is about to take place. This is treated as common place and not surprising for the participants and is indeed part of the enjoyment.
> 
> It is not rape fantasy. Most truthfully this could be considered bad etiquette D/s
> 
> Pretend with me that the alien body works a little different than the human body. As in I have blatantly ignored some important bodily functions because I was going for porn not realism and didn’t want to interrupt the flow. I am very well aware of how important it is for vagina owning people to pee after any kind of intercourse. I also understand the value and necessity of lube. No one in their right mind would use a plug like that, yes I know. Thanks
> 
> -
> 
> Super thanks to my desires-to-remain-anonymous friend “Ana” who, when asked, gave me more information about the logistics of anal sex and how exactly cock warming works and feels than I ever could have wanted. I can never unknow these things so I have put this information to good use. Sort of. Yes that’s exactly what happens when you have unprotected anal sex. Thanks “Ana”


End file.
